Date: Sun, 04 Jun 2000 17:11:37 EDT
From: Gabriella Morrison <sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Surprise Romance 18-19

Hi everyone!


It's me again with another installment of My Surprise Romance. From the few
e-mails I received, I'm really sorry with the cliffhanger I left everyone
with, but hey, it's my story ;) Anyhoo, the amount of e-mails have dropped,
which always makes me worry. So please, after you read this, send me one at
sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and tell me what you think of the story so
far--I'm begging you--good, bad, or if you just want to say
`hi'--whatever. Much thanks to those of you who have e-mailed me, I really
appriciate it.

Thank you so much to Justin, Clarke, Damon and Cele. Without any of you I
wouldn't be writing this. ....I want you to know that!! And now the
disclaimer

DISCLAIMER: m/m relationship, as not to imply the sexuality of `N Sync or
Lance Bass. You must be 18 or 21 to read this depending on where you
live--I'm sick of writing these.


My Surprise Romance

Chapter 18


Cynthia and I stood in the hot parking lot in complete and utter shock. I
mean, what else could we do, besides stand there and stare at the sight of
Justin and another man only a few feet away from us, making out as if they
didn't have a care in the world. I felt the shopping bag in my hand slide
from my fingers and hit the pavement with a noisy rustle. I'm surprised my
lower jaw didn't hit the ground either.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Cynthia finally whispered though she was
unable to tear her eyes away from the two gentlemen in the car. I felt as
though my feet were cemented to the ground--Justin was...gay?  And as
though he had felt us watching them, Justin's eyes turned to us, flashing a
mixture of shock and horror. He tore himself away from his love interest
and continued to stare at Cynthia and I. Suddenly, Cynthia casually
strolled up to the car, and to everyone's horror, she tapped on the window.

"Hi," she mouthed at the two guys, giving them a little wave. Justin turned
to my cousin, giving her a `what-the-hell-are-you-doing' look. The young
man in the drivers seat didn't even glance at her. Instead, he quickly
slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses, and then started up the car's
engine. And before we knew it, they had hightailed it out of the parking
lot, the automobile's tires screeching behind them. Cynthia stood there, a
look of astonishment on her face. "He nearly ran me over!" she exclaimed,
walking back over to where I was standing. She knelt down to pick up the
shopping bags I had dropped, and then looked back at where the car had just
been parked.

"They wanted to get out of here fast," Cynthia said dryly, observing the
skid marks that the expensive car had left behind. I shook my head in
amazement.

"I can't believe it," I murmured under my breath, as I finally spotted our
rental car. Cynthia and I got into it and drove off in the direction of the
hotel. "Do you think the rest of the guys know?"

Cynthia shook her head, as she rolled down her window. "You are so dense
sometimes, Stevie--why do you think they drove off like that?" She slapped
me upside the head lightly. "Duh, of course they don't know--if they did,
do you seriously think that Justin and his mystery man would have
hightailed it out of here like they were escaped criminals? I just can't
wait to confront him." She rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

"You cannot do that to him," I declared as I turned the car onto the
thruway. "He's obviously been hiding this from the rest of the guys, Cynth,
and for you to just...expose him like that..." I shook my head
gravely. "It's just wrong."

She fell silent for a brief second. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she
finally said. "But you have to ask him about it. Justin saw you--he knew
that it was you and me standing there, he's not stupid," Cynthia said. "And
I wanna find out who that guy was--he was pretty cute."

I let out a laugh, despite the uneasiness I felt in my stomach. "Cynthia,
honey," I said gently. "He wouldn't like you anyways." We both laughed at
my remark as we turned back onto the exit that would lead us back to the
hotel.



When we arrived back on our floor, Cynthia made a beeline for Josh's
room. "I'll check in here," she said innocently. "To make sure that Justin
didn't come back here."

"Yeah, right," I teased her. "You better make sure that Josh is just in
there." She flashed her pearly white teeth at me in knowing happiness.

"Good idea, Stevie," she laughed and gave me a big wink, while knocking on
his door. I headed down the hallway towards the room that Lance and I
shared, unlocked it and let myself in.

"Hello?" I called out to the resounding silence. I looked at the
immaculately made up bed, and saw a handwritten note lying on top of his
pillow, placed neatly over the mint.

`Stephen,' it read, `I went out shopping with Joey. Might stop to have a
massage. I'll see you later tonight (if your busy schedule permits--ha ha)
Love, L.' I read the note over and over, and then folded it up into a neat
square and tucked it into my suitcase.

I looked around the room and let out a sigh. I wasn't sure what to do with
myself, so I stretched out on the bed, letting my mind soak in the peaceful
atmosphere around me. For the first time in days, I finally felt `off'. It
was a nice feeling, I thought as I picked up one of the tabloid newspapers
that Lance had left on the nightstand. I flipped through the paper and
began to read the article to myself.  My eyes wandered over to the photo of
Lance and Cynthia, their lips attached as though they had super glued
themselves together and suddenly, feelings of jealousy began to fall over
me.  I noticed how my boyfriend and my cousin made a pretty darn cute
couple. Suddenly, I knew why Josh had stormed off that morning. It wasn't a
pretty sight seeing your significant other kissing someone else, even as a
joke. I tried to tell myself that I was being silly, as I attempted to
shake the resentful feelings out of my mind.

A knock on the door cut off my train of thought. It was a soft knock, as
though the person on the other side of the door was hoping that no one
would hear it.

"Who is it?" I called out, folding the tabloid in half and placing it back
on the nightstand. I pulled myself into a sitting position on the bed. The
voice hesitated in answering me back.

"It's...it's Justin," he said so quietly, I was lucky I could even hear
him. I stood up, walked towards the door, and opened it. There before me
stood Justin, his eyes downcast, and hands deep in the pockets of the jeans
he was wearing.

"Can I come in?" he asked me, looking at the carpet underneath him.

"Sure," I said, opening the door wider to let him in. Justin brushed past
me, and took a seat in one of the oversized chairs that sat next to the
window.

"Lance isn't here, is he?" Justin asked as though the thought suddenly
dawned on his. His eyes darted around the hotel room nervously.

"Nope--he went out with Joey. It's just me and you Curly," I said, taking
my place back on the bed. Instead of looking at me, Justin chose to stare
outside, his face void of any emotion. I continued to sit there wordlessly.
I wasn't going to pressure Justin into saying anything, opting for him to
speak first--and he did.

"I guess you saw me this afternoon," Justin began in a soft voice, folding
his hands in his lap, still looking out the window. "I know Cynthia did."

"Yeah, we both did," were the only words I spoke. I continued staring at
the curly haired lead singer, not sure what he was going to say next. I
began to feel more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed and then I
began to wish that I hadn't even gone out to the mall that afternoon.

"That was my boyfriend you two saw in the car," Justin said, finally
meeting my eyes. "His name is Harris."

I nodded. "He was cute," I said neutrally. "What I could make out, at
least. He put his sunglasses on too fast." Justin smiled nervously at my
remark and then placed his face in his hands.  When he looked back up at
me, tears were streaming down his face.

"Almost no one knew," Justin managed to say in a hoarse whisper. "The only
one that knew was Brit."

"Brit?" I repeated, confused. "Is that a nickname for one of the guys?"

Justin shook his head, and wiped the tears out of his eyes. "No,
Britney. You know, Britney `hit me baby one more time' Spears?" Justin
said, managing to laugh, despite his obvious pain. "She's one of my best
friends in the whole world."

I nodded again feeling like one of those bobbing head dolls you see in the
back of cars. "I know who you're talking about now. How could I not? The
tabloids are always linking you two together." I reached over and handed a
box of tissues to Justin, who blew his nose before he continued.

"Yup--we were even making out a few months ago in front of the
reporters. She wanted to help me throw them off," he admitted, nervously
cracking his each of his fingers. I winced at the noise and Justin noticed.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I always do this when I'm nervous." I smiled at
him, surprised by how different he was in person, than when he was with the
rest of the guys. The outgoing Justin Timberlake had silenced, and a
quieter one had emerged.

"It's okay--just don't do it again," I warned him jokingly, wagging a
finger at him. "And relax--there's nothing to be nervous about. It's just
me here and I never considered myself to be *too* threatening," I cracked,
trying to make Justin a little more at ease. To my relief, he laughed
despite himself and then let out a loud sigh. A few more tears slipped down
his cheek.

"The rest of the guys don't know about me and Harris. They don't even know
that I'm gay..." he trailed off, looking forlorn. "You know the night that
Lance told everyone that he was seeing you? And he made that joke about
liking curly-haired blondes?" I thought back to that night, and did indeed
remember Justin's strange reaction to Lance's joke.

"Oh yeah--you just walked out of there. I remember it well," I told him.

Justin grimaced. "Yeah, well I was petrified that somehow Lance knew and
that's why he had joked around like that," he explained, drumming his
fingertips against his knee. "I've been really paranoid lately--that
someone's always watching me when I'm with Harris."

"Well, making out in a public parking lot usually isn't the best thing to
do when you're paranoid," I said gently. Justin smiled at me again, the
tears now subsiding.

"I know, it's just that when you're with someone you really like, you can't
help doing stupid things," Justin described.  "It just happened and
then...we saw you staring at us. Harris thought that you and Cynthia were
two strangers--that's why he just pulled out of the space like that."

"Hey, you should be lucky it was only me and Cynth and not some reporter,"
I reminded him gently. Justin nodded, clearly relieved.

"I know--I can't believe how close we were to getting caught. Sometimes I
forget how close I am to the public eye," Justin said in amazement, shaking
his head. His head snapped up as though something had just hit him. "You
gotta promise not to tell the guys--you or Cynthia. Please," Justin said
suddenly, his eyes pleading.

"Justin, why not? Everyone knows about Lance already," I said. "And no one
held it against him. What would be the big deal if the guys know you're
gay?" Justin stared at me for a few seconds, as though I was speaking a
foreign language. He then got off the chair and began nervously pacing back
and forth.

"Stephen, you don't understand. I'm not comfortable with telling everyone
yet. Everytime a conversation comes up about Lance, I don't know what to
say about it. I wasn't even sure that I was..." he paused, and his face
suddenly resembled someone taking a horrible medicine "Well, you know..."

"Gay? Is that the word you're looking for?" I interjected teasingly.

Justin swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. I didn't even know until I met
Harris--I've always seen girls, I've always hit on girls, but when I met
him, everything changed," Justin described. "It's weird to explain about
how I felt when I met Harris." A grin appeared on Justin's face at the
mention of his boyfriend's name and being in love myself, I couldn't help
smiling at his reaction. I knew how he felt.

"I think I know what you're talking about," I said. Justin gave me a
relieved look as he stopped his pacing and stood in front of me. I decided
to take it a step further. "Where'd you meet Harris?" I asked. "If I'm not
being too nosy," I added quickly.

Justin shook his head. "No--I'm just glad that I can finally tell someone
besides Brit," he said, his voice returning to normal. "I met him when I
was in Boston around Christmas...he's a singer actually...opera. Harris is
in this group that travels around the country and somehow our schedules
have been matching," Justin said shyly.

"He sounds nice."

"He is--and you know, Stephen, I'd love to tell everyone." Justin
paused. "I want to tell *everyone*.  But I know I can't. Especially after
the conversation we all had this morning--coming out would kill me in every
way possible--my career, my family--everything. My mother doesn't
know... and right now I just don't want to ruin anything," Justin said
sadly, sinking back down in the chair.  He looked back at me with a gloomy
smile on his face.

"You know Stephen, I'm really glad that you're here and that you know about
me," he said, his smile growing a little wider. "Tell me--was it this hard
for you?"

My face fell as I thought about my own messy life. "Yeah, with certain
people..." I trailed off, avoiding to tell him about my mother. "But once
you let someone know, you feel a hundred percent better."

Justin nodded. "I know what you mean. When I told Brit...God, I felt like
someone lifted a weight off my shoulders. She was really happy for me and
Harris--she's met him already and she loves him. They even went shopping
together," he said happily.

"That's good--but you know you'll have to tell the guys sooner or later," I
told him, not trying to freak him out too badly. Justin nodded.

"I know that Stephen," he replied in a calm voice, despite the terrified
look in his eyes. "Just promise me you won't say anything," he said
feverently.

"I keep promises," I said simply. "You've put trust in me and I wouldn't
dare betray it."

"What about Cynthia? She saw us too," Justin suddenly said, looking even
more worried. "I like her and all, but she doesn't seem to be the type to
keep her mouth shut about a juicy secret like this."

I shook my head. "Nah--my cousin might have a big mouth when it comes to
certain things, but this isn't one of them. Underneath that crazy exterior,
is actually one of the sweetest people you'll ever know. Cynthia is really
sensitive when it comes to breaking promises--its one of her pet peeves," I
explained with a laugh. "Besides, I already told her to keep her mouth shut
after we saw you and Harris."

Justin laughed at my last remark and stood up from his position on the
chair. He walked over to me and grabbed me in a friendly hug.

"Thanks, Stephen,' he said, looking a more relieved than when he first came
in, but not much. "You know, I'm really glad that you came on tour with
us."

"So am I," I agreed, grinning causing Justin to roll his eyes at me.

"I'm sure it's not for my company," he laughed. "But I'm glad that you came
anyways. I'll see you later," Justin said, letting himself out of the room.

"Bye," I called out, as the door closed behind him. I sat on the edge of
the bed for a few minutes reassessing what had just happened between Justin
and I.  Coming on tour, I never expected to be the one who held the
secrets, I thought. And while it wasn't such a big deal, I felt like I was
keeping some kind of potentially dangerous problem hidden inside of me. The
image of Justin's serious, worried expression popped into my mind, as I
laid back down on the bed. All I could think of was how sad he was keeping
the truth hidden, and I hoped that he would come to terms with himself soon
enough to let himself be happy.



Chapter 19


"Stevie, you lazy bum--get up already." I had fallen in a rather peaceful
slumber after the talk I had with Justin. I fall asleep rather hard, so
that should give you a good idea how loud my cousin's voice was as she
stood over me, barking orders like a drill sergeant.

"Cynthia,"I said, sitting up and yawning. "What gives? I was sleeping, if
you hadn't noticed," I said a bit crankily. My mind still wasn't working
properly, as my eyelids threatened to close on their own. To my surprise,
she threw a glass of ice cold water directly in my face.

"What the hell?!" I yelled at her, jumping off the bed. "Why did you do
that?"

"Because I said so," Lance announced from the other side of the room, in
his deep voice. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his
chest. "Good work, Cynthia--didn't think you'd have the nerve to do it," he
complimented.  I wiped my eyes, ready to strangle my cousin and Lance for
what they had planned against me.

"I have no nerve," she announced rather gleefully, pulling my groggy self
off the bed. "Come on, Stevie--you have to get ready for your big date
tonight." She raised her eyebrows at me, and I groaned.

"You had to tell her," I complained to Lance. "You just had to, didn't
you?" He shrugged helplessly at me and grinned. He was about to open his
mouth, when Cynthia spoke up for him.

"Lancey-boy here wants to pick you up before hand," she said in a teasing
voice, rolling her violet eyes. For some bizarre reason the tone of her
voice made me blush as she continued on, "So you're gonna get ready in my
room."

I looked over at my boyfriend. "You've got to be kidding me," I said in
astonishment. "It's not like we don't know each other already." Cynthia
picked up my shopping bag and began to pull me out of the room. Lance
walked over to me, as I was leaving.

"Hey, if we were going out like normal people, then I would have picked you
up at your house," Lance explained, moving a little closer to me. "But
we're not, so this is the best thing I could come up with." He moved even
closer to me, placing his face next to mine. "Besides," he continued,
brushing my now-wet hair away from my eyes. "I want to be surprised when I
see how you look in clothes without paint on them for the first time." He
leaned in for a kiss, but Cynthia pulled me away before his lips could
touch mine.

"Oh no you don't," she warned Lance. "Stevie, you don't want him thinking
that you're easy because you kiss before the first date." She leaned over
towards Lance. "I know about guys like you." Cynthia gave him a wicked
grin. "Taking advantage of poor, innocent guys like my cousin here," she
said, punching me in the arm.

"Innocent?" Lance said, his eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise. "My
Stephen? I think you've got the wrong guy there, because the Stephen I know
is far from innocent."

Cynthia rolled her violet eyes at him again.  I swear, one they their going
to get stuck. "Save it for the good night kiss, you two," she sighed,
pulling me into the hallway. "Come on, cuz--we've got work to do." And with
that, she whisked me down the hallway.



Once I was in Cynthia's room, I took a long hot shower. When I stepped out
of it, I found that she was waiting for me in her usual place: on the seat
of the closed toilet.

"Thanks again for the privacy," I grumbled, as I wrapped a towel around
myself. "I just love walking around naked in front of my cousin." She
dismissed my comment with a wave of her hand and then smiled at me.

"I ironed your new clothes for you, Stevie," she said, watching me as I
vigorously dried my hair with a clean hotel towel. "They're hanging on the
back of the door, freshly pressed and ready to wear." I looked at her in
amazement. Was this my cousin, or a robot, I thought to myself.

"Hey, thanks a lot, Cynth--but don't you hate ironing?" I reminded her, to
which she nodded.

"Yup, but I figured you'd be too nervous to do it. Either that or you'd
burn `em. I can tell you never iron your clothes--you always look like you
just crawled out of bed."

"I do not look like I crawl out of bed," I denied, knowing fully that
Cynthia was, as usual, one hundred percent on the money. I did look like a
slob some mornings--I just hoped that no one noticed. "And besides, you're
acting like I've never laid eyes on Lance before, my dear cousin. For your
information, I see him every day...and night," I couldn't help resisting.

"I know that," she laughed. "That's why you're so happy all the
time--you're gettin' some." I cringed at her words and laid my toothbrush
down.

"Cynth--you're so..." I trailed off before placing the toothbrush back into
my mouth.

She looked at me. "Truthful?" she offered. "Well, you are, aren't you? I
mean, you two do share a room. You sleep in the same bed, right?" I just
nodded my head, because my mouth, at that moment, was filled with
toothpaste. Plus, I didn't feel like answering my cousin's questions.

"Stevie, if you and Lance weren't doing anything, then I'd think there was
something wrong," she said knowingly, giving me a big wink. Then she
stopped. "You are doing `stuff', right?"

I pulled the toothbrush out of my mouth. "Yes!" I exclaimed, a little
perturbed at Cynthia's sudden interest in my sex life. "Yes we are doing
`stuff', as you put it.," I said, spatters of toothpaste flying out of my
mouth and onto the mirror. She cringed as I yelled at her.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I guess I was being nosy." She stood up and
walked to the bathroom door. "I'll be outside, waiting if you need any
help." she called over her shoulder ,with a serene smile on her face as she
exited the room. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, shaking my head
as I finished brushing my teeth.

I did a couple of things and then emerged out of the bathroom, and found
Cynthia standing over an ironing board, flattening the hem of a floral
print dress. She smiled at me as I unhooked my clothes from the back of the
door.

"Hey, I'm sorry I yelled at you, Cynth--I guess I'm a little nervous." I
sat down on the bed. "I have no idea why--it not like Lance and I have ever
met."

Cynthia smiled and flipped the dress over. "I know--Josh and I are going
out tonight too and I feel the same way. It's really our first date
together and I want everything to be perfect, I guess. So I'm a little high
strung," she explained matter-of-factly.

"You? A little high strung?" I teased her, as I slid the shirt off the
hanger. She laughed.  "I know--I'm usually so calm," she joked. "But
seriously, Stevie, I am nervous. What if I screw something up and Josh
realizes that I'm some kind of idiot, you know?" She shook her head, as she
slipped the dress on over her head. "I'm always screwing something up.,"
she said as she disappeared into the bathroom.

I sat on the bed for a few seconds, thinking about what she had just
said. Even my overly confident cousin had doubts...and here I was, thinking
I was the only one who berated myself on a regular basis. Taking a deep
breath to clear myself of any negative thoughts, I stood up and began
getting dressed.



A little while later, Cynthia and I critically looked over each others
outfits. "Looking good, Cynth," I said, as she twirled before me. She had
pulled her blonde hair up into a twist, and put on a pair of pearl earrings
that I had bought her ages ago for her sweet sixteen birthday. "Aw, that's
sweet--wearing something I bought you," I said, touching the delicate studs
in her earlobes.

"My lucky earrings," she beamed. Then as she thought about what I had said,
she leaned over and belted me lightly in the gut. "Just `good'? I look
better than good, Stevie," she said in feigned outrage. I rubbed my stomach
where she had punched me.

"New appearance, same Cynthia," I commented wryly with a chuckle."You look
fabulous, my dear."

She grinned. "That's better--and Stevie, you don't look half bad yourself,
you handsome devil, you." I looked at my reflection in the mirror--she was
right, I did look decent. The beige shirt had complimented me, and it was
nice to finally own something with out a splatter of paint on it. I was
still examining my appearance, playing around with my hair when there was a
knock on the door.

I looked at Cynthia in the reflection of the mirror and we grinned at each
other. "Which one of you big stars is it?" she called out.

There was a pause and then we heard a smattering of laughter. "Both of us,"
came the reply through the heavy wooden door. Cynthia and I both rushed to
it as though someone had told us we had just won a million dollars and we
both reached it at the same time. She hip checked me out of the way,
reaching the door first and threw it open to see Josh and Lance both
standing there, with confused looks on their faces.

"Are you two okay?" they asked in unison, and then looked at each other and
laughed again. Cynthia pushed me out of the way, and stood there, grinning
like a fool at Josh.  She made a feeble attempt at looking as though she
just hadn't fought me for first place at the door.

"Make it quick, you two," I could hear Lance complain impatiently from the
hallway.

"Hold it, keep your pants on," Cynthia said slyly, causing everyone to
groan. She just grinned as she pulled Josh down the hallway. "We'll give
the two lovebirds some time alone," I heard her say as she and Josh walked
to the elevators. I was about to yell out a nasty retort as I walked over
to the door--that is until I stood face-to-face with Lance. When I laid
eyes on him all thoughts flew out of my head, and I felt the nervous
feelings returning to my stomach. Lance, that night, looked better than
handsome--I don't think there was a word that could even describe how
wonderful he looked. He was dressed in an iridescent cedar blue shirt,
unbuttoned at the neck and a pair of casually rumpled khakis. His ever
present silver cross hung around his neck, and his hair was perfectly
fixed.

"Hi," he said, giving me a nervous grin. "Ready for our date?"

"I'd love to but...I have so many things to do," I said with a straight
face. Lance gave me a shocked look, and I couldn't hold it any longer. "I'm
just kidding," I said, breaking into laughter. "Of course, I'm ready--did
you really believe me?"

Lance nodded. "Yeah," he said, a bit embarrassed. "I guess I'm just a
little nervous," he said in his deep voice and let out a shaky laugh. "I
don't know why I am--it's not like we're total strangers or anything," he
said, echoing my early thoughts.

"I think I have something that will make you feel better," I said and
before he could answer, I leaned over and met his lips in a slow, leisurely
kiss. My eyes closed upon meeting his mouth, and we stood there like that
for who knows how long. I didn't care and suddenly, I wasn't nervous
anymore.

When we parted, Lance's eyes fluttered open and he gave me a slow, sexy
grin. "That was nice," he said, his green eyes sparkling.

"Feeling better?" I questioned, as he leaned over and fingered the lapel of
my shirt.

"Much. You know, you look really great tonight--no paint," he observed,
clearing his throat.

"You're looking pretty sharp yourself," I remarked. We stood there for a
few more seconds before I decided to shut the off the lights and stepped
out into the hallway

"So are you ready to go?" Lance asked me, as I closed the door behind me.

"Definitely," I said, as we walked down the hall together, hand in hand,
ready to embark out on our very first date.



Lance and I decided on your basic dinner and a movie date, but to be honest
with you, I don't think either one of us cared what we did, as long as we
were with each other. Lance wanted to take a limo, so we could, as he put
it, `travel in style', but I declined. I wanted our date to be as `normal'
as possible, or at least as normal of a date you could have with one of the
world's biggest pop stars. I drove us to the restaurant that Lance had made
reservations at, which was a nice, little elegant place that was on the
opposite side of town.

"We were interviewed here before," Lance explained. "And I always wanted to
come back here on a date." He took hold of my hand, and I attempted to
concentrate on the road as his thumb began to stroke my palm. Somehow I
managed to make it to the restaurant without crashing, and parked the car
in a space next to the restaurant. The building, I should add, was
absolutely beautiful--gothic style architecture, two stories high, with
creeping ivy growing up the sides. Lance noticed me examining it and
smiled.

"Nice, isn't it?" he asked me, as we walked into the building. I could only
nod, as we walked through the door, whose glass was hand painted with
elegant French symbols. Inside, the matri'd instantly recognized Lance and
greeted him rather enthusiastically.

"Hello, Mr. Bass," he said, taking Lance's hand. He looked at me and then
at Lance. "Isn't your girlfriend going to join you two gentlemen tonight?"

 Lance stared at him blankly for a few seconds, not understanding what he
meant. "Girlfriend?" he asked, the confusion clear on his face.

The matri'd looked a bit uncomfortable. "Yes," he said with a nervous
laugh. "The girl on the cover of the tabloid with you." Lance slapped a
hand to his forehead, not believing what he had just heard.

"She's not my girlfriend--it was just a tabloid story," Lance explained
politely. "It's just going to be me and my friend here tonight." The
matri'd nodded and began to apologize profusely.

"Yes, Mr. Bass--I'm sorry about the mix up, sir. Come with me, gentlemen,"
he said, grabbing two menus and began walking up a flight of stairs to the
second story of the building. Bewildered to why we were going upstairs, I
looked at Lance. He grinned at me and mouthed, `it's the V.I.P. section,'
and I nodded.  Once we were upstairs, the matri'd seated us, handed us our
menus and apologized once more. He had seated us at a secluded little
corner table with only the glow of a frosted wall lamp bouncing off of
us. The walls were lined with vintage depression-era posters as well as
with autographed pictures of celebrities from the 1950's and 60's. I
couldn't imagine a more perfect place for our first date, I thought
happily, as I took a sip of my water.

"That tabloid thing is now an official pain in the ass," Lance laughed as
he opened his menu up. "When I had my massage today, that was the only
thing the girl giving me the massage could talk about."

I leaned over the table we were seated at, towards Lance. "You know, I
could have given you a massage," I whispered suggestively. "You didn't have
to pay for one."

"Au contraire," he replied in a faux French accent, seductively raising an
eyebrow. "But you need to keep your strength up for later tonight." He
gently nudged my foot under the table knowingly while keeping his eyes
glued to the menu. I felt my face turn red at his suggestive remark, and I
was glad that the restaurant was so dimly lit.

I didn't have a reply for that, so I just opened my menu up, and looked for
something to eat. Fortunately, this restaurant had edible things like
chicken and steak--nothing too extravagant that I would make a fool out of
myself, I thought with relief.  When I looked up from my menu, I found
Lance staring at me.

"You okay here?" he asked, smiling gently at me. He placed his menu down
and rested his chin on his hand, continuing to gaze into my eyes as though
we were the only two people in the place.

"Fine--it's really nice. I love the posters and stuff on the walls," I
said, looking around once more in wonder. Lance smiled at my reaction.

"I thought you would--being a painter and all. I was trying to think of a
restaurant that you'd appreciate. You know, art-wise, and this was the
first place that popped into my mind," he explained shyly. I stared at him
in awestruck belief, as the realization sunk in--Lance specifically found a
place that I would really enjoy and not just somewhere that he wanted to go
to. That simple gesture touched me like you wouldn't believe, and it took
me a few minutes before I could actually speak.

"Thank you, Lance" I said quietly, looking down at my lap. "No one's ever
really thought of me like that before."

"No one?" Lance asked in surprise, taking a sip of his water. His eyes
widened in disbelief as I shook my head.

"No one," I repeated, looking back at the menu and avoiding his eyes. I was
afraid that my emotions would spill over and that I would start crying out
of nowhere. For the millionth time since I had met Lance, I wondered why I
had been chosen to meet him and not someone else. Luck like this never had
come my way and it made me wonder if these past few weeks had been all a
dream. Looking across the table at the man I had fallen in love with, I
realized that it wasn't a dream--it was reality. And that made it all the
better.



After our dinner, Lance and I decided to see a movie. He gave me directions
to a theater and when we pulled up in front of it, I was surprised to see
that it wasn't a big, flashy multiplex.  I looked at the marquee listings
and then realized that there wasn't a movie playing there that wasn't over
twenty years old.

"What is going on?" I asked him, clearly perplexed as I parked the car in a
space. I sat there in silence for a few seconds, for an explanation until
Lance finally rewarded me with a sheepish grin.

"Okay, while you were sleeping, I asked Cynthia what kind of movies you
liked. She told me how fond you were of older stuff, so we looked through
the listings and I found this place," he explained. "And then she told me
that your favorite movie was playing, so..." he trailed off, letting his
eyes drift upwards to the marquee.

I followed his gaze and read the listings. " `The Graduate!'" I exclaimed
happily. "I love that movie--and Cynthia knows it! I've only made her sit
through it--"

"Twenty times," Lance said with a sigh. "I know, she told me," he said,
giving me a *look*, which was quickly replaced by a smile. "But I've never
seen it. And I want to now."

"You really want to? Instead of something more modern?" I asked a little
uncertainly. I didn't want to bore him by making him watch a movie he
didn't want to see. But Lance shook his head firmly.

"Nope, I want to see it," Lance said firmly He leaned over and gave me a
reassuring peck on my cheek, before opening his car door and got out. He
looked at me, still sitting in the car, staring at him in disbelief. "Well,
what are you waiting for? Are we gonna see it or are you just gonna sit
there all night?" he asked. I let out a giddy laugh and got out of the
car. I joined him as we walked into the theater together, side by side,
never feeling happier than I did just then.



The movie was as great as I had remembered it, except that this was the
first time I had seen it on something other than a television screen. That
is, the parts Lance and I actually watched when we weren't attached at the
mouth. I know you're probably thinking, `didn't I learn anything from
Justin?' But think about this: Lance and I were in a dark, secluded movie
theater that was only half-filled with older people and bored college
students, who could have cared less about us sitting in the last row of the
theater. Plus, I had never made out in a movie theater before, so it was
kind of exciting for me...I felt as though I had a second chance to relive
my teenage years by doing this. You see how easy it is to ignore that
gorgeous man next to you , when his fingers are creeping up your thigh and
I'll give you a million dollars.

When the movie ended and the lights came on, Lance and I looked at each
other and grinned. We had waited until we were the last ones in the place,
no one would see us. Our hair was mussed up, our clothes were rumpled...and
I had loved every second of it. We quickly straightened ourselves up,
making us look a little more presentable before leaving and headed back to
the car.

"You weren't recognized once," I said once we were inside the automobile. I
pulled onto the main street and looked over at him. "I'm impressed."

"I'm not that important of a member of `N Sync," he quipped sadly. "If I
was Josh or Justin, I'd be mobbed, but no one cares about Lance..." he
trailed off. At the mention of his bandmates' name, I felt myself
cringe. Yeah, I thought, Justin was always noticed--it was just a fluke no
one saw him this afternoon, except for Cynthia and I. For some reason, his
problem had embedded itself into my mind. Luckily, Lance didn't notice the
change in my expression and continued talking as I kept on driving.

"You are an important member of the band," I said, pulling myself out of my
thoughts and back to our conversation. "At least to me, you are," I
admitted sweetly.

"Aww, thanks...so you wanna come over back to my place?" Lance asked
eagerly, grinning like an overexcited teenager. I couldn't help but laugh
at his expression.

"Using the sympathy technique, aren't you?" I asked him, faking a weary
sigh. "Well, Mr. Bass, that doesn't always work...for your information, I
am not that type of guy."

He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Are you sure you aren't? Maybe
I should have gotten you liquored up. Then you'd be a little easier to
handle," he said flirtatiously.

"I'm positive--it takes more than dinner, a movie and a kiss on the cheek
to change my mind. And now you want to get me drunk? What kind of person do
you think I am?" I questioned him as we reached a red light. Upon seeing
this, Lance reached over and quickly grabbed my face and pressed his mouth
to mine, letting his tongue slip in between my lips, passionately kissing
me for the briefest of seconds.  He pulled his mouth away just in time for
me to see that the light had changed from red to green.

"How about now?" Lance asked as I pressed my foot to the accelerator. I
didn't speak--this time a kiss said much more than any words could say. But
I will say this--it was hard thinking about driving after that.


A little while later, Lance and I reached the hotel again and we managed to
make it upstairs without anyone noticing. Unlike the other cities, the
rabid fans that circled the hotel, weren't allowed to camp out day and
night. Once we had made it onto the elevator, Lance and I kissed, not being
able to hold our feelings back anymore. The power of passion and lust that
ran rampant throughout me was unbelievable, I thought as I ran my hands up
and down his strong back. The elevator let out a `ding' and Lance and I
quickly parted as the doors opened and an elderly couple got on. They
smiled at us and we both managed to smile back, despite our heavy breathing
and flushed faces. Once they got off at a different level, I looked at
Lance, who stood there with an innocent expression on his face.  I reached
over and let my thumbs stroke his cheekbones before kissing him one more
time, before the elevator reached our floor and the silver doors opened.

It was completely silent, I noticed as we stepped off the elevator. I
assumed that Josh and Cynthia were still out and that Joey, Chris and
Justin had hit the town. Lance and I walked rapidly to our room, hand in
hand. He began fumbling with the lock as I stepped away from him. He looked
up in surprise at me.

"Well," I said. "Thanks for a wonderful night. I'm going to Cynth's room to
sleep." I began heading down the hallway, only to be stopped by Lance,whose
hands had found their way around my waist.

"Oh no you don't," Lance said softly, pulling me backwards towards him. He
moved his lips to the nape of my neck and began to place light kisses on
it, causing me to sigh in happiness.

"I told you, I don't do these sort of things on the first date," I managed
to say, as Lance spun me around to face him. He gave me an irresistible
smile as he opened the door to our room and without a word, promptly pulled
me inside it. Once Lance had closed the door and locked it, he pressed me
against the back of the door and placed his face close to mine.

"I hope you had a good time," he said huskily, staring deeply into my
eyes. He pressed his body against mine and as he did this, I felt him
poking into my thigh.

"I had a wonderful time," I managed to say, before Lance kissed me again. I
barely had to pry his lips open, as he took my tongue and sucked on it
briefly, before he began to explore my mouth with his tongue. His fingers
began to unbutton my shirt, letting them run over my smooth skin as more
and more of my flesh was exposed. I lifted my hands and ran my fingers
uncontrollably through his hair.

Once he had managed to unbutton my shirt, Lance parted the fabric to expose
my chest. He worked his mouth away from mine, moved it past my neck and to
my nipples, where he began to suck on them gently. While he did this, Lance
ran his hand over my hardening penis, caressing it softly, until I couldn't
stand it any longer and a strangled moan escaped my lips. He looked up at
me, his green eyes shining at me in the darkness of the moonlit room.

"Stephen," he whispered, his voice deeper than usual. "I want you." He
moved up to me, and stared into my eyes, holding my gaze while leading me
to the bed. I fell onto it, watching him slowly pull his shirt over his
head. He threw it carelessly to the side, as he climbed onto the bed as he
fell on top of me. I began kissing him slowly, letting my tongue trail down
the side of his neck. My hands fell to the waistband of his pants, where I
began to unbuckle his belt. While I did this, Lance ran his hands over my
bare chest, moving lower to softly rub my stomach.

"That tickles," I breathed, trying not to laugh as his fingers began to
creep down to the button on my pants. He quickly unbuttoned them and then
pulled the zipper down, purposefully brushing over my hardness in the
process. Once this was accomplished, he stood up, yanked my pants off in a
rather swift motion, and threw them carelessly off to the side. Lance then
got back onto the bed and hovered over me, his silver cross dangling over
my chest, as he lowered his lips to mine. Our mouths met in a frenzied
kiss, while I preoccupied my fingers in unbuttoning his pants (damn button
fly, I thought as I did this). I managed to sit up then and succeeded in
pulling his pants down halfway to his knees.

He smiled at me as I managed to roll him over onto his back and placed
myself on top of him. I let my hands run down his body, slowly and gently,
enjoying every second that I touched his warm flesh. Lance closed his eyes,
as his lips parted to let out a moan. With that as my invitation, I lowered
my mouth to one of his already hardened nipples and began to tease it with
my tongue. While I did this, I let my hand work down into his boxer shorts
and slowly began to stroke his hard penis with my hand.

"God, Stephen,' he managed to groan as I slid my hand up and down his
swollen member. I let my fingertips run over the slit at the top of the
head, feeling the precum that had already gathered at the tip, before
sliding my hand down the shaft once more. I let my lips work on his other
nipple for a brief second, before moving down his body. Beads of sweat
began forming between us as I let one hand continue to bring Lance closer
to the edge, while the other busied itself with removing his boxer shorts
from his lower half of his body. Once I threw them on the floor, I lowered
my mouth to him just as his hips thrusted upwards. I slid my tongue up and
down his engorged shaft, tasting him while my lips applied gentle
pressure. His hips began to rhythmically thrust, causing more and more of
him to enter into my mouth.

"Stephen," he moaned as my tongue swept across his head, before diving back
down onto his shaft. I felt his strong body tense, as his hands grabbed the
comforter underneath him tightly. His body began to writhe uncontrollably
with pleasure. "I'm...I'm..." were the only words he managed to say, before
he came in my mouth, his whole body shaking with the intensity of his
orgasm. I let my eyes drift up to his face, which I noticed had contorted
with pleasure at his release and he let out a loud, earth shaking
moan. Once I had swallowed everything, Lance's eyes looked down at me.

"Stephen," he panted, reaching down to run a hand through my hair. "I want
you to.." his voice trailed off, as he closed his eyes. When he opened
them, he looked at me and gave me a sultry smile. Alarm bells went off in
my head, as I realized exactly what he wanted.

"You mean?" I said uncertainly. "But I've never done that to you..."

He nodded, and smiled again. "Please, Stephen--I want you to make love to
me. I love you and I've never wanted anything more," he managed to say, his
breathing growing incredibly ragged as the seconds passed.

I felt myself melt as the words left his mouth. "I love you too, Lance," I
murmured as he pulled himself into a sitting position and kissed me, while
pulling my boxer shorts off my hips. Lance fell back onto the bed and
rolled over. He opened the drawer of the nightstand, removing a bottle of
lube, which he neatly threw at me. I caught it, as Lance laid back on the
bed and watched what I was about to do next with great interest. Gently I
moved his legs apart, and opened the lube, spreading it on my fingers. I
took a deep breath before slowly working a finger into his hole. He let out
a moan as I moved the first finger inside of him, and then carefully
inserted another. I searched Lance's face for any signs of discomfort, but
all he did was give me a smile and nodded.

Taking this as my signal, I spread the leftover lube on myself. I lifted
his legs up, holding them by then ankles before positioning the head of my
penis before pressing myself into his hole. At my movement, he let out a
painful groan and I almost pulled out, only stopped by Lance.

"No," he managed to cry out. "Keep going--I'll get used to it,' he said. I
continued moving myself into him, as slowly and gently as I could. Soon the
look of pain, was replaced by a look of rapture and satisfaction. Lance
nodded again and I began to move in and out of him in slow, steady
thrusts. The feeling of being inside of him was completely indescribable,
as I continued to move myself back and forth.  I leaned over to kiss Lance,
trapping his rehardening penis between us. As I moved over him, the
friction of our bodies rubbed against his member and I could feel both of
our bodies tense. Before I knew it, my slow thrusts had increased and as I
thrust myself one last time into Lance, I finally came, emptying my load
inside of my boyfriend. At the exact same time, Lance came again for the
second time that night between us.

I collapsed on top of my boyfriend, our breathing rapid and ragged by what
we had just done. For a few seconds we lie there wordlessly, before he
wrapped his arms around me.

"Thank you," he whispered into the silence, stroking my damp hair from my
forehead.

I looked up at him ,with a sleepy smile on my face. "No, thank you," I
whispered back, before kissing him. I fingered the silver cross that lay on
his bare chest.

"For what?" he asked, looking a bit puzzled.

"For trusting me," I said shyly. "You didn't have to let me do that."
Lance smiled at me and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, this time letting
his kiss say more than any words of expression ever could. And before I
knew it, I had fallen fast asleep in Lance's strong arms, feeling more
content than I had ever felt in my entire life.


That's all I have to say: remember e-mail me at
sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and tell me what you think so far. Thanks
for reading!